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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453771">Foolish Vanity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretlyThranduil/pseuds/SecretlyThranduil'>SecretlyThranduil</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Prompts and Asks [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Humor, M/M, but ecthelion loves him anyway, glorfindel is a vain idiot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:22:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>516</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretlyThranduil/pseuds/SecretlyThranduil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: “I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!” + Glorfindel/Ecthelion </p><p>For fingons-rad-harp on Tumblr</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ecthelion of the Fountain/Glorfindel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Prompts and Asks [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817521</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Foolish Vanity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gondolin was burning. It was burning, and almost everyone was dead. Turgon was dead. Barely anyone had made it out through Idril’s secret tunnel. Against the odds, Ecthelion had survived his battle with Gothmog, albeit almost drowning in his own fountain, and despite the peril they were still in, Glorfindel was <em>not</em> letting him live it down.</p><p>At least it was keeping up the spirits of the little band of refugees who had made it out of the city and up onto the mountain, especially little Eärendil.</p><p> </p><p>“A <em>fountain</em>, Ecthelion! That would be like me choking on the flowers outside my window, or Egalmoth being killed by a rainbow! Only you would manage that ‘Thel.”</p><p>Ecthelion was really trying not to drag Glorfindel off the mountainside by his hair. That ridiculous, golden, curly mess which reached the back of his thighs and…</p><p> </p><p><em>Hang on</em>, he thought. <em>Oh for Eru’s sake!</em></p><p> </p><p>“Glorfindel, where is your helmet?! And why is your hair not braided back, that could be the death of you, you great golden idiot!”</p><p>“I think it got knocked off by a balrog in the square, I’m not sure. But anyway, I thought you liked my hair? You certainly like to <em>pull</em> <em>on it</em>, anyway” he replied, with an inappropriate wink.</p><p> </p><p>Now was <em>really</em> not the time for that.</p><p> </p><p>And so they were off again, another silly argument. It was a good thing they loved each other, and knew it well. If Turgon were here, he would have knocked their heads together to get them to stop; it was the only thing that could stop their lovers’ quarrels.</p><p>Unfortunately, he was not. So they – <em>somehow</em> – did not notice the <em>balrog</em> creeping up the side of the mountain until it got noticeably too warm for a mountainside.</p><p> </p><p><em>Well</em>, they both thought. <em>At least Turgon is not here to shout at us. Again.</em></p><p> </p><p>“… are you going to try headbutt this one too, Ecthelion?”</p><p>“Fin! I <em>told</em> you that your hair could be the death of you! Please tell me you have a hair tie SOMEWHERE in all those pockets, this balrog won’t wait for you to braid it.”  </p><p>Glorfindel, ever the idiot, finally admitted “<em>I don’t OWN any hair ties, okay!</em> I’ve always stolen yours! I love my hair, why would I want to tie it up?”</p><p><em>Oh that’s just PERFECT</em>, Ecthelion thought. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute <em>idiot</em>!” You have the longest hair in Gondolin, <em>why don’t you own any hair ties?</em>”</p><p>“Well, at least I’m not the one who decided that headbutting Gothmog was a good idea and almost drowned in the symbol of my own house!”</p><p>“Glorfindel! Can this discussion wait until we aren’t about to die? I’ll finish this argument with you in the Halls if this does not end well for us!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>The Halls of Mandos, a few hours later</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“… but seriously, that would be like me choking on flowers!”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>GLORFINDEL</em>”</p><p> </p><p>It was a good thing that they were already dead, because Glorfindel was certain that Ecthelion would certainly have killed him for this.</p><p>With golden flowers.</p>
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